


Last Christmas

by zombified_queer



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: 6 lives, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Holodecks/Holosuites, M/M, Minor Injuries, Tooth-rotting romantic fluff all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombified_queer/pseuds/zombified_queer
Summary: "I've never seen snow before," Weyoun Six whispers, clutching instinctively at Odo's ungloved hand, fingers intertwined with Odo’s. "I didn't think it would be so cold.""I thought it snowed on Kurill," Odo answers, holding Weyoun's cold hand in his own. He looks over, watching Weyoun take in the snow, the gentle twitches of the Vorta’s ears.The Vorta shakes his head. "I've never gone back to Kurill."





	Last Christmas

It's the sort of scene people take pictures of: rolling slopes of mountain draped in a thick curtain of white, dark pine trunks contrasting the snow, and a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. To top the whole scene off, the clouds are dark enough to keep the snow from melting but not so dark as to look foreboding. Odo's certainly grateful he's dressed in a thick winter coat, the scarf Weyoun's tied around his throat keeping him warm.

"I've never seen snow before," Weyoun Six whispers, clutching instinctively at Odo's ungloved hand, fingers intertwined with Odo’s. "I didn't think it would be so cold."

"I thought it snowed on Kurill," Odo answers, holding Weyoun's cold hand in his own. He looks over, watching Weyoun take in the snow, the gentle twitches of the Vorta’s ears.

The Vorta shakes his head. "I've never gone back to Kurill."

There's something terribly sad about that, something that resonates in Odo’s chest, heavy and cold like a piece of ice. Odo thinks he should pull the Vorta close, perhaps press his lips to Weyoun's temple or his cheek.

But Weyoun lets go of Odo's hand, darting off. He navigates through the trees, as if he's content. Safe. Odo's hardly surprised when Weyoun manages to climb one of the thick trunks to rest on one of the lower branches. But it does worry the ex-Changeling.

"Odo," Weyoun Six calls, grinning. "The safety protocols are on. I won't get hurt."

"I still worry," Odo huffs, coming to stand under the tree, looking up at the Vorta. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I am." Weyoun traces the bark of the pine, flaking pieces off.

"Well, come down. We haven't even seen the cabin yet."

Weyoun raises a brow, mischievous. "Will you catch me?"

"What?" Odo's hands rest on his hips.

"If I jump right now, will you catch me?"

"Yes." Odo doesn't even have to consider how high up Weyoun is or the force of the Vorta falling. "I'd catch you."

For a dizzying moment, he thinks Weyoun really will leap out of the tree, pounce like a feral thing onto him. But all he can worry about is Weyoun breaking his arm. He's developed an odd taste for risk-taking ever since the termination implant failed to kill him. It scares Odo.

But instead of leaping out of the tree, Weyoun climbs down in a way that's almost graceful. He presses close to Odo's side, shivers, and grins. "You should have seen your face. You were mortified!"

"I'm concerned for your safety." Odo puts his arm around Weyoun's back, just below the Vorta's shoulder blades, pulling the Vorta close as they walk through the snow.

"You're concerned about everyone's safety."

Odo blinks. There's a mournful edge to the Vorta's statement. "I'm chief of security. I'm responsible for a lot of people, Weyoun."

"I know." Weyoun wriggles out of Odo's hold, staying just a few steps ahead of the ex-Changeling.

Stepping into the cabin, Odo finds it just as picturesque as the rest of the holosuite, perhaps just a bit too perfect. It snaps the immersion, just a bit.

In the large, marble fireplace burns a fire, warming the whole cabin. It's a cozy size, the cabin: a living room, a kitchen, a master bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom's dominated by the large double-bed, topped with quilts and blankets. Weyoun sinks onto it, sighing and arching his back. He looks at Odo, just watching him.

"Tired already?"

"No," Weyoun answers. "I just wanted to see how soft it was."

Odo crosses the room, running a hand over the throw blanket that tops the bed. It's soft, plush. And his hand is next to Weyoun's knee, something that makes Odo want to reach over, pull the Vorta close.

Instead, he retracts his hand, letting it fall at his side. It's just the holosuite. It's the pressure to enact whatever romantic scenario it entails.

"I'm going to go out in the snow," Weyoun murmurs. "It's so . . . cold."

"I'll join you," Odo says softly. "As long as you promise not to climb any trees. I'm not about to turn into a grey squirrel and follow you."

"I promise."

Weyoun hoists himself out of the comfortable bed and Odo follows him outside. For a moment, Odo just stares at the line of trees, the clouds, the snow. It's too perfect. Especially with Weyoun Six here and alive and attempting to build a snowman.

Something's wrong. The holosuite flickers and Odo can see the grid that produces the images and then the image of the snow and trees returns. But the clouds are darker, more oppressive.

"Odo?"

"Count on Quark to have faulty holosuites." Odo folds his arms over his chest. "Computer, end program."

Nothing happens.

"Computer," Weyoun says. "Stop program."

But instead of stopping, it starts to snow. Weyoun gets to his feet, looking worriedly at Odo.

"We can just find the door, right?" Weyoun asks, trying to keep calms, despite the twitching of his ears. "It'll be fine."

"It won't be that simple." Odo says. "Even if we move around, the holosuite is designed to keep us more or less centred in the room."

Weyoun shrugs, striding off in one direction with purpose. Odo can't help but follow, worried about the Vorta.

"Are the safety features off?" Weyoun asks.

"They could be. I'm not about to test them."

Weyoun hums. He continues hiking through the snow, Odo trailing after him like a shadow. The farther they walk from the cabin, the darker the cloud become. And the more Odo worries.

"Let's go back," Odo insists. "We can keep warm in the cabin and wait this out."

"No!" Weyoun turns. "Let me do one thing, Odo! I'm fine. I'm safe. I'm not going to keel over at any moment. You were right there when Julian gave me his expert opinion."

"Weyoun--"

"You want me to stop treating you like a god, right?"

Odo sighs, looking down. "Weyoun, please--"

"Then stop treating me like property. I'm not a doll and I won't break. I'm built for combat situations, Odo." Weyoun turns away from Odo, striding off again. He makes it all of two steps before collapsing into the snow with a yelp.

Odo rushes over, helping Weyoun up. "What happened?"

"The snow's too deep. I tripped."

Odo picks the Vorta up. "Back to the cabin."

"Fine." Weyoun wraps his arms around Odo, clinging to him and adjusting his weight. "You don't have to carry--"

"It's quicker," Odo assures him.

He carries Weyoun without complaint. He's warm in Odo's arms and surprisingly light. The Vorta rests his head on Odo's shoulder, closing his eyes.

"You think I'm stupid."

"No," Odo answers. "Clumsy. Reckless. But not stupid."

The ex-Changeling follows their tracks back to the cabin. As he walks, the snow comes down harder, the wind picking up. He can just barely make out the cabin through the blizzard and it gives him the burst of energy he needs. He carries Weyoun inside, the snow following them inside.

Gingerly, Odo sets the Vorta on the sofa. "How's the ankle?"

"Sore," Weyoun answers. "I don't think I'll be climbing any trees with it."

Odo crosses the room, shutting and barring the door against the raging blizzard outside, the plummeting snow and howling wind.

Weyoun moves to get up, but Odo hurries to his side, gently ordering, “Stay.”

The Vorta rolls his eyes, but lays back, watching the ex-Changeling intently. Odo reaches over, taking hold of Weyoun's boot to unzip it and the Vorta hisses, pulling away instinctively.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Yes," Weyoun says. But his eyes are full of understanding.

Odo nods, more careful the second time. It won't unzip over the Vorta's swollen ankle and Odo doesn’t want to force it and possibly hurt Weyoun again. "I'll have to cut it off."

"Alright," Weyoun murmurs. "I trust you."

The Vorta reaches into his coat pocket for a knife, one that has the blade folding into the handle. Odo stares at it for a moment. Weyoun hands it over.

"For defense?" Odo asks, opening the knife and slicing carefully.

"And for times like this." Violet eyes wide, Weyoun watches the boot fall away from him. No stabs or slices, but scraps of fabric. He breathes a small sigh, head back against the couch cushions.

"I should wrap this."

"Bandages might be in the bathroom," Weyoun tells him.

Odo, for a moment, just stares at Weyoun. Then he nods, getting up to search the bathroom. Despite his thick coat, the bedroom's freezing. The bathroom's even colder and he swears he can see his breath curling in puffs of white.

The holosuite's planned for this accident. There's a roll of bandages on the counter by the sink. Odo takes them, looking them over before taking them. He thinks he might know how to wrap Weyoun's ankle. Theoretically.

He picks up a quilt on his way through the bedroom.

Weyoun perks up at Odo's approach, smiling at him. "You found them?"

"I did." 

Odo places the quilt around Weyoun's shoulders. Carefully, he unravels the bandages, wrapping Weyoun's ankle tightly. The Vorta hisses, nails sinking into the couch, taking the soreness in stride. When Odo finishes the wrapping, Weyoun breathes a sigh of relief.

"I'm no doctor," Odo apologizes, "but it should hold for now."

"Thank you, Odo."

Odo gets up, crossing the room to the door. The wind still batters the wood, a chill lingering around the doorframe. He's tempted to throw it open, fooled into the idea of the warmth of Quark's being just beyond the door. He traces the wood of the doorframe with his fingers, itching to do something. Anything.

"Odo?"

He looks over. His hand drops at his side. Weyoun's up, though leaning on the couch, trying not to put weight on his sprained ankle. 

"Sorry." Odo crosses the room. "The bedroom's cold, but it should be manageable with--"

"Just . . . curl up with me by the fire," Weyoun begs. 

"I could carry you."

"I'm not broken!" Weyoun insists. The limp, though, making Odo wince. 

Defiantly, the Vorta settles on the floor stoking the fire carefully. Once it's burning bright and warm, he looks up at Odo. The ex-Changeling grabs the quilt, offering it to Weyoun. It pools around the Vorta's hips and thighs while he wriggles out of his coat, tossing it on the couch. 

Odo joins him in undressing, his own jacket unzipped and tossed aside in one fluid motion. He settles on the floor, watching the fire. Weyoun leans on Odo, offering the quilt. Odo accepts it, if only to be closer to the Vorta.

Weyoun's warm against his side, pulse racing quick in his chest. Odo can feel it through his own skin. 

"You're alright?"

"I'm fine, Odo," Weyoun says slowly, dozing off. "I wish you wouldn't worry so much about me."

"I couldn't protect you," Odo murmurs, rubbing Weyoun's back. "And that was when I could shapeshift."

"I'm alive, Odo," Weyoun says. "I'm alive and I'm here. I want you to treat me like I'm alive, not like I'm going to die at any moment."

Odo sighs, looking at the Vorta. There's a fire in Weyoun's violet eyes, something determined and fierce. Odo considers brushing Weyoun's lips with his own, just gentle affection to let Weyoun knows he cares about the Vorta.

Instead, he presses his face into the crook of Weyoun's neck, murmurs, "I'm sorry. I just . . . I couldn't protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Odo," Weyoun argues, gently pulling away from him. "I'm fine."

"But you're not fine." Odo stares at Weyoun, at his left ear. The Vorta's curls hide the scar but Odo knows its there. He was there to see the slow, painful extraction of the implant. "You have migraines and you tire easily and have trouble being--"

Weyoun crosses his arms. The fire in his eyes returns tenfold. "I have trouble being what?"

Odo shrugs. Nothing he can say can fix this. "You're reckless."

"Reckless." Weyoun nods. "I see."

"I just . . . I worry that one of these days, something is going to happen and I'm going to have to deal with losing you."

"What do you feel for me, Odo?" Weyoun asks. "Are you my friend? My god? My personal bodyguard?"

"I . . ." Odo licks his lips. "I would like to be your friend."

"Then explain all this," Weyoun gestures to the cabin, to the firelight tossed over them both, the quilt they're sharing. "Friends don't do this for each other. At least, not the way I understand it."

"I would like to be your friend," Odo assures the Vorta. "I would also, if you'd like, be something more."

"But not a god?"

Odo shakes his head, brow furrowed. "Never a god." He takes both Weyoun's hands in his own, pressing the Vorta's hands to his chest so Weyoun can feel the heart beating in Odo's chest. "We're the same. Mortal. Equal."

"Outcast," Weyoun replies, slowly pulling his hands away. "Defective. Runaways."

"Maybe," Odo says, pulling the Vorta into his lap gingerly. "But we're here."

"How does this holonovel end?" Weyoun asks. His hands rest on Odo's shoulders.

"Well, typically, after enjoying the snow, you'd come in to escape the blizzard and either . . . well, do _that_ in front of the fire or in the bed."

"Oh." There's a violet flush creeping over the Vorta's face. "You mean sex."

"It's romantic," Odo admits. 

Weyoun bites his lip, as if he wants to say something. Odo tilts his head, expecting another conversation. Instead, Weyoun takes Odo's face in both cold hands, kissing the ex-Changeling gently. Odo finds Weyoun's lips are soft, warm against his own.

"Sorry," Weyoun murmurs when he pulls away. Absently, he smooths out Odo's shirt. "I shouldn't have--"

Odo's hands settle on the Vorta's back, pulling him closer. "I thought it was nice."

"Nice?" 

Odo nods. "I would like, if you wouldn't be opposed, to continue kissing you."

Weyoun blinks. He leans in. Odo closes the space between them, meeting Weyoun's mouth with his own. It's soft. Gentle. Weyoun's warm, so warm and shivering against Odo. The Vorta’s constantly in motion, a million nerves exposed to electricity. Weyoun makes some muffled noise and Odo pulls away, looking over Weyoun for bruises or blood, any hint of pain.

"Did I hurt you?" Odo asks, hands settling on Weyoun's hips, words murmured against the Vorta's pale throat. "Should I--"

"You didn’t fucking hurt me." Weyoun sighs. "I . . . I want more than just making out, Odo."

"You'll guide me?" Odo kisses the Vorta's throat, right along the pulse. "I'm not very experienced with solid sexuality."

"I'm not that experienced either." Weyoun slowly pulls off his sweater, exposing pale flesh, lean muscle. "But I think we'll make it work."

Odo, for a moment, wants to just pull Weyoun close, wrap him up in the quilt. Instead, Weyoun guides one of Odo's hands to his chest, placing it on the lower right, where Odo can feel the quick pace of the Vorta's heart behind his ribs, thrumming hot and alive. Odo understands, pulls Weyoun close, finds himself leaving hickies over Weyoun's slender throat. The Vorta in his lap moans, tilts his head, lets Odo mark him.

"How . . .?"

Weyoun's weight leaves Odo's lap, the Vorta opting to lay by the fire. He looks up, wordless. Expectant.

"Let's make it more comfortable," Odo says, getting up. 

"Odo?"

"I want it to be perfect."

He hears Weyoun sigh. But Odo goes to the bedroom, gathering blankets, pillows, everything he can carry. He returns to the living room, Weyoun nude and flushed a gentle lilac. He looks like he's carved from marble, living art breathing and laying there. 

"Weyoun," Odo murmurs. 

The Vorta blinks, looks up at Odo. "Hmm?"

"You're very handsome."

Weyoun looks away. "I'm not."

"You can keep it on, if you'd prefer," Weyoun assures him. "It doesn't matter to me."

Odo shakes his head. "I want us to be equal."

He continues to strip down. Weyoun's stare is more curious than aroused, ears twitching. His fingers, with Odo's nods, touch, exploring Odo as a solid, as someone instead of a thing. His study is gentle, tracing sensitive spots solely to make Odo groan or his breath hitch. He helps Odo out of his clothes, pausing to raise a brow when he sees Odo completely undressed.

There's no ridges across Odo's face, the uncanny smoothness now a comfort to Weyoun. But Odo's sex is Bajoran, ridged with cartilage. 

"Let's get comfortable," Odo says. He's aware now of how different he is. The Vorta is proportioned perfectly, mathematically calculated to be perfect. 

"Right," Weyoun replies. "Comfortable."

Odo follows Weyoun's direction, the two of them constructing a sort of nest out of the blankets, the pillows placed just so in preparation. Odo places everything with thoughts only of the Vorta's comfort. Weyoun stokes the fire, warmth and light spilling over both of them. 

Being stripped down without any relation to sex does put Odo at ease. Weyoun looks over his shoulder, smiling at Odo.

"It's nice," Weyoun murmurs, laying back in their little nest. "Warm. Cozy."

Odo looks at the Vorta for permission, Weyoun nodding. The ex-Changeling runs his hands over the Vorta, exploring and experimenting. Whenever Weyoun moans, Odo repeats whatever he's done be it a pinch or an idle shape drawn over the skin. Whenever Weyoun hisses, Odo stops, kissing the corner of Weyoun's mouth in apology.

Slowly, he becomes aware of just how much the Vorta's built for his partner's pleasure. It's easy to coax moans and whimpers out of Weyoun. The Vorta provides enough lubricant for penetration. Even his bone structure is meant for someone else, for someone with a sense of aesthetics to appreciate. Laid out like this, body flushed purple, aroused and expecting, Weyoun is a piece of meat. 

"Weyoun," Odo says softly, leaning in to kiss the Vorta's throat. "What do you want?"

Weyoun blinks. "Sex. Intimacy. Love."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." Weyoun pulls Odo close. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't want you to feel used."

"I won't." Weyoun kisses Odo. He repeats, the Vorta's breath warm against Odo's mouth, "I won't feel used."

Odo returns the kiss, meeting the Vorta's lips with his own. 

From there, Odo follows Weyoun's guidance. "Touch here" brings Odo's hands to comply, running up the Vorta's thigh, tracing Weyoun's genital slit. Weyoun rolls his hips towards Odo's curious fingers, inviting more foreplay. Odo, out of curiosity, traces his tongue along the violet-flushed skin. Weyoun keens, reaching down to rake his nails through Odo's hair.

"Did I hurt you?" Odo asks.

"No," Weyoun groans. "It's good. I didn't expect it to be..."

"I thought you--"

"My predecessors did," Weyoun says, looking down at Odo. "And they remember pain. This...this is different."

Odo kisses the inside of Weyoun's thigh. "Of course it is. If I hurt you..."

"You won't." Weyoun rolls his eyes. "Get it in already."

Odo lines himself up with the Vorta. It's strange, to be looking down at the Vorta like this. Odo pulls the Vorta up, into his lap so he's thrusting up into him. Weyoun clings, groaning. 

The moment Weyoun sinks down on Odo's ridged member, the Vorta stops, shivering.

"Too fast?"

"Give me a moment," Weyoun murmurs. The Vorta kisses along Odo's throat, clinging to the ex-Changeling. "I didn't think the ridges..."

Odo lazily drags his fingers down Weyoun's spine, assuring him he's safe, he's comfortable. He's loved.

Weyoun moves first, face screwed up in concentration. It takes some effort not to irritate his sore ankle. Odo holds him, guiding him, helping ease the weight. 

Odo tilts his head up, kissing Weyoun again. 

Instead of clashing, they move together, one unit. Odo listens, obeys, makes sure Weyoun is cared for, his needs met first. And Weyoun fixates on the way Odo looks at him with nothing but adoration and love.

Weyoun comes first, clutching at Odo and shivering. 

Odo pulls out of the Vorta, kissing him gently. He rubs Weyoun's back, helping bring him down from his high. The Vorta slumps against Odo, eyes half-closed, purring softly. 

"Would it be alright if I tucked you in?" Odo asks.

Weyoun makes a soft noise in the affirmative. Gingerly, Odo lays Weyoun back in their little nest, tucking him in and making sure the Vorta's warm. 

Clinging to Odo, Weyoun dozes off, still purring. 

At some point, Odo falls asleep, holding the Vorta. 

When he wakes up, Weyoun's still curled against him. Odo kisses Weyoun's forehead. It strikes him how much he really cares about this Vorta, how ever instance of Weyoun in pain wounds Odo himself.

Weyoun purrs, something sleepy and content. 

It's hours of nodding off against each other, curled into the warmth they provide, lazy half-awake kisses.

Finally, they wake from their sleep. Odo helps dress Weyoun, careful of the sprain. Weyoun smiles, adjusting Odo's coat, fixing the ex-Changeling's blond hair.

Only once they're dressed does the holosuite pause, the door sliding open. Quark's standing with Kira, both staring at Odo and Weyoun.

Odo, gingerly, scoops the Vorta up, carrying him out of the holosuite without a word.


End file.
